by Nic Saint
“I’m afraid we have some bad news, Raban,” said Chase.
“Bad news? Oh, I think I know what’s going on here.” He gave the cop a grim-faced look. “Neda fired me, didn’t she? I knew this was going to happen sooner or later. That woman hates Janette so much she can’t forgive me for working for her. So she hired another gardener, huh? Who did she go with? Shakeel?”
“It’s not that. I’m sorry to tell you that Neda is dead, Raban.”
The gardener blinked. “Dead? What do you mean?”
“She was robbed and killed this morning,” Odelia explained.
“And we’re trying to find out what happened,” Chase added.
“Dead,” said Raban in hushed tones as his gaze raked his fallen rake.
“So you were here all morning, were you?” asked Odelia. “You never left?”
“No, I was here all morning,” said the gardener, once again gesturing to the fallen leaves, as if they could testify and provide him with an alibi.
“Can anyone confirm that you were here? Janette, maybe?”
“No, I haven’t seen Janette today. She had choir practice.”
“Can anyone else vouch for you?”
“Well, no. I guess not.”
“You have a key?”
“I have a key to the garden house, not the main house.”
“And how about at Neda Hoeppner’s place?” asked Chase.
“What about Neda?”
“Did Neda give you a key to the house?”
“No. No, she didn’t. None of them do. I just need access to the garden house. That’s where I keep all my stuff. And they all have one. Neda, Janette… Hazel.”
“Hazel?”
“Hazel Larobski and her husband Amadeo. They’re all members of the same choir.”
“And none of these people get along?”
Raban displayed a rare smile. “They hate each other, Detective Kingsley. It wouldn’t surprise me if one of them killed Neda. They all hated her.”
“But why?”
He shrugged. “You have to ask them. I just know that when Neda became director of that choir, that’s when the trouble started.”
Just then, a well-dressed middle-aged woman rounded the corner, and when she saw us all standing there chatting, she called out, “Raban, what did I tell you about inviting your friends over for a chat?!”
“These are not my friends, Miss Janette,” he said immediately. “They are police. They’re here because Mrs. Neda was murdered.”
Janette Bittiner’s reaction was a thing to behold: her jaw literally sagged, then her hand moved to her face and then she uttered a loud, startled cry of anguish.
“Either she’s very upset or she’s a very good actress,” said Dooley.
A small ball of fur fell from the woman’s arms and hit the ground running. It was a small dog, and when he caught sight of Dooley and me, he started yapping up a storm.
Lucky for us Janette quickly scooped up the ball of fur and tucked him into her arms again. Then she said, “You better come in.” And then turned on her heel and walked off.
I wasn’t exactly excited to accept the woman’s invitation, because that little doggie had once more sprung free from her grip and was once again making a break for freedom, trying to reach Dooley and me, yapping furiously all the while, but lucky for us Janette gave her dog’s leash a yank and snapped, “Sugar, quiet!”
And lo and behold: Sugar immediately shut up and tripped behind his mistress in the direction of the house. I noticed he was wearing a blue coat on top of his own coat of fur.
“Maybe we better stay out here,” I suggested to Odelia, who was following in the woman’s wake, as was Chase.
“Nonsense,” she said. “Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to talk to that dog and find out where Janette was when Neda Hoeppner was killed.”
I swallowed as I regarded the little fluffy ball of fury, which kept darting nasty glances in our direction even as he obediently tripped along behind his mistress.
“Are you sure?” I asked in a small voice.
“Absolutely. It’s important that we find out what’s going on with this choir business.”
I shared a look of concern with Dooley. But then like the brave little soldiers that we are, we decided to risk all for the sake of the investigation and our human.
After all, maybe this little dog’s bark was worse than his bite?
5
“This is terrible,” said Janette Bittiner as she shook her auburn curls. “Simply terrible. Murder, you say? Actual murder?”
“Yes,” Chase confirmed. “Does this come as a surprise to you, Mrs. Bittiner?”
“Miss Bittiner. And yes, it does come as a surprise. Of course it does. I saw Neda just this morning, at choir practice, and now this…” She shook her curls some more. I noticed how glossy they looked, and even though the woman’s face was lined, I couldn’t detect a single gray hair in her hairdo, which was full and luxurious, like in one of those shampoo commercials.
The little doggy she called Sugar was lying next to her on the sofa, and had his beady eyes fixed on me, gauging the potential danger in this feline intruder, no doubt.
“Did you know Neda Hoeppner well?”
“Of course. We were members of the same choir, and had been for years. In fact Neda was one of my dearest, closest friends. And certainly one of my oldest ones, too.”
“She was your dear friend?” asked Odelia. She couldn’t hide her surprise, and I didn’t blame her, after what this woman’s gardener had told us about this choir rivalry.
“Yes, she was. We’re the same age, you see, and have known each other since we went to kindergarten together. Though she used to take away my toys and I used to hit her over the head with a tennis racket.” She laughed. “At least that’s what our teacher Mrs. Willems used to say. I honestly can’t remember, and neither could Neda.”
“So you were at choir practice this morning?” asked Chase, as Odelia shot a glance in my direction, urging me on to talk to Sugar, and verify Janette’s claims.
“That’s right. Every Monday morning from nine till eleven we have choir practice. And then on Sunday, of course, we sing during morning mass. You have seen us, haven’t you, Miss Poole? Or I should probably say Mrs. Kingsley now,” she added with an indulgent smile.
“I think I’ll keep my maiden name,” said Odelia, returning the smile.
“Oh,” said Janette, her smile wavering, as if she didn’t approve such extravagance.
“But to answer your question, I have seen you sing, and most importantly heard you. Though I have to admit that we don’t come to mass as often as we probably should.”
Janette sniffed. “Of course you don’t. Not many young people do, and even then only on the big days, like Christmas. But we’re there every week regardless,” she added as she flicked away a speck of dust from her blouse. “Singing our hearts out for the Lord.”
“So what did you do after you left choir practice?” asked Chase.
“Oh, this and that. I dropped Sugar off at the pet salon, as I do every Monday, and then I had some errands to run in town.”
“Is there anyone who can confirm that?” asked Chase.
Janette frowned. “Why? I’m not a suspect, am I? I just told you that Neda and I were best friends.”
“Someone told us that you and Neda didn’t see eye to eye lately,” Chase explained.
“Not see eye to eye!” Janette exclaimed. “Who told you that?”
Chase’s response was a shrug, indicating she wasn’t going to get that kind of information from him.
“Well, I can tell you that whoever has been spreading these foul lies about us is very much mistaken. Neda and I were dear, dear friends, and that’s the absolute truth. And if you don’t believe me, you can ask anybody. Ask Father Reilly—he’ll tell you.”
“Oh, we will, Miss Bittiner,” said Chase as he gave her the kind of look he reserved for people who lied to him. It wasn’t a v
ery friendly look, but Janette took it in stride.
Sugar had finally taken the leap from the couch, after spending the last half hour trying to hypnotize me with his intent gaze, and had started approaching us with a slight sense of trepidation. He kept glancing over to Janette, clearly wondering if she’d stop him from giving these intruders a closer inspection, but Janette was still trying to convince Chase that she and Neda had indeed been the best of friends. The very best.
“Hi there,” I said as the small ball of fluff joined me and Dooley on the carpet. He was of the Shih Tzu persuasion if I wasn’t mistaken, and I just hoped he wouldn’t suddenly jump out at me and dig his tiny sharp teeth into my nose or something.
“Hi,” said Sugar. “What’s your name, cat?”
“Max,” I said with what I hoped was a disarming smile, screwing up my charm to make sure we wouldn’t become victims of a sudden attack.
“I’m Dooley,” said Dooley, who’d crept back a little and was using me for cover. I must say it was a sound strategy, as I’m twice Dooley’s size, so if Sugar, for reasons only known to him, would suddenly get it into his nut to attack, he’d find a bigger target in me.
“Nice place you got here,” I said, continuing to ooze charm from every pore.
“It’s all right,” said Sugar dismissively.
“So how were things at the pet salon?” I asked, deciding to get our mission on the road. I had no intention of remaining in Sugar’s company any longer than I needed to.
“Fine,” said the doggie, who clearly was one of those strong and silent types.
“What do they do at these pet salons?” asked Dooley now, and I could tell that in spite of himself, he was genuinely curious.
“Oh, this and that,” said the small dog.
“This and that what?” Dooley insisted.
“Well, they shampoo you and they trim you and then they primp you and they groom you. Why? I thought cats didn’t like to go to the pet salon? I thought you guys didn’t like to have your hair cut, or to be washed and shampooed and have people fuss over you?”
“Oh, no, that’s definitely true,” I agreed. “We don’t necessarily enjoy people sprinkling water on our precious coats and then attack us with comb and scissors. But we do enjoy a new experience as much as the next pet, isn’t that right, Dooley?”
“Absolutely,” said Dooley. “We went to a pet salon once, when Odelia flew us to LA.”
“Odelia is your human, yes?” said Sugar. “That pretty blonde over there?”
“She is pretty, isn’t she?” said Dooley proudly.
“Very pretty,” I agreed, equally proudly.
“And that beefy guy is her husband?”
“Yes, that’s Chase,” I said. “He’s a police detective, and he is very strong.”
“He saved our lives many times,” Dooley confided. “He’s a superhero.”
Sugar gave Chase a skeptical look, then dismissed the burly cop out of paw. “Yeah, right.”
“No, he really is. He saved our lives from two homicidal seagulls only recently.”
“Of course he did,” said Sugar with an indulgent grin.
“And right now he’s looking into the murder of Neda Hoeppner,” I said. “Did you know Neda Hoeppner, Sugar?”
The doggie, who’d decided to finally halt his progress in our direction, probably feeling he was close enough, and had plunked himself down on the carpet, said, “Sure I knew Neda Hoeppner. She was only Janette’s biggest enemy in the whole wide world.”
“Enemy?” I said. “I thought Neda was Janette’s best friend since kindergarten?”
“Don’t believe everything Janette tells you,” said Sugar with a smirk. “She hated Neda’s guts, and the feeling was entirely mutual.”
“But why?”
“Long story,” said Sugar with a slight yawn.
“Tell us,” I said. “We like long stories.”
“We do,” Dooley confirmed. “My favorite story has been running for almost sixty years.”
“Dooley loves General Hospital,” I explained. “He watches it with one of our other humans, Odelia’s grandmother.”
“Okay, so Neda and Janette are both members of the same choir. The St. Theresa Choir. And two weeks ago the previous choir conductor, Samuel Smalls, died of a heart attack. So a new choir director had to be picked. And since that’s Father Reilly’s prerogative, he suggested that all the candidates put their name in the proverbial hat and he would select the best one—or the one he felt was most qualified for the job.”
“And Neda and Janette were both candidates?” I asked, starting to see where the story was going.
Sugar nodded. “Janette always wanted to be choir director. In fact she’s been practicing for years, hoping one day to take over from old Mr. Smalls. She even claims she had some kind of arrangement with Samuel. That when he decided to retire, he would appoint her his successor. Only he died before he could name a successor, and then suddenly it was up to Father Reilly. Janette wasn’t worried, though. Everyone knew that she’d been gunning for the position for years, and that she’d been preparing, even going so far as to take lessons from Samuel Smalls, so she’d be ready when the time came. Only when the time did come, suddenly Neda also threw her name in the hat, even though she knew Janette wanted the position. So Janette felt betrayed.”
“Had they been friends before that?”
“Not really friends, but at least they hadn’t fought like cats and dogs, pardon the pun,” he added with a grin.
I smiled an uncertain smile. I didn’t like the pun, and neither did Dooley, I could tell, for he was moving a little more behind my broad back.
“So it was between Janette and Neda?” I asked.
“There were three candidates, actually,” said Sugar. “Neda, Janette and Yoko Bricknell. But even though Janette felt hurt and betrayed by Neda, she was sure that Father Reilly would pick her… until he didn’t.”
“He picked Neda.”
“He did. And ever since then it’s been all-out war. Janette has sworn a solemn oath that she would prove that Neda was the worst choice as choir director, and set out on a campaign of sabotage.”
“Sabotage?” I asked.
“She’s been derailing every rehearsal Neda has led, and this morning she quit.”
“Quit?”
“If you’re going to keep repeating everything I say you’re going to make this a very difficult conversation, Max,” said Sugar with an eyeroll. “Yes, quit. Janette walked out of the rehearsal, vowing never to return.”
“Ouch,” I said.
Sugar studied me for a long moment. “You know, there’s something I’ve always wondered.”
“Yes, what?” I asked, grateful that Sugar had revealed such an important piece of information, one I was eager to share with Odelia the moment we were back in the car.
“Is it dogs that can run the fastest? Or cats?”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I said, but before I could ask more questions about Neda and Janette, suddenly Sugar had sprung to life and was chasing me! It was all I could do to stay ahead of him, as he was yapping up a storm, and putting on a burst of speed the likes of which I’d never before witnessed from a creature as small as him!
He raced me around the room, causing me to jump up and down couches, ignoring frantic cries from our humans to stop this nonsense right now—it wasn’t me who started this nonsense!—and finally jump up onto the table, upend a bowl of potpourri someone had placed there for some strange reason, and take a long jump straight into the curtains, then quickly work my way up those same curtains until I was near the ceiling. Looking down I saw I’d finally managed to shake off my tormentor!
“Congratulations, Max!” Sugar yelled from down below. “You won this round! But I can tell you right now that the next round is mine! Mine, you hear! Mine!”
6
Our next stop was the pet salon where Janette Bittiner claimed she’d dropped off her precious pet—or raging terror i
n my opinion—and so soon Dooley’s wish to find out what went on behind the closed doors of this establishment would finally come true.
“You moved so fast back there, Max,” said Dooley as we eagerly glanced around the small space of the pet palace. “I didn’t even know you could climb curtains like that!”
“I didn’t know either,” I confessed. “I’ve never climbed curtains before, at least not to my recollection.”
“Pity you destroyed them, and the carpet.”
“Not my fault,” I pointed out. “If Sugar hadn’t chased me, I wouldn’t have felt the need to run like the wind.”
“And run like the wind you certainly did!” said my friend, the admiration in his voice making me feel warm and fuzzy inside despite my recent run-in with a rabid dog.
On a table in the center of the pet salon, a small dog was being primped to his heart’s content, and on what looked like a barber’s chair another dog, this one not so small, was having his coat given a relaxing treatment with a soft brush. It shone like spun gold.
I gulped a little. Coming so close on the heels of my contretemps with a member of the canine species, the last thing I was looking for was to be in the same room with two more members of that same species. These dogs didn’t look dangerous, though. Then again, Sugar hadn’t looked all that dangerous, either!
“Hi,” said Chase when a woman approached the counter located near the entrance. He showed her his badge and immediately a wary look came into the young woman’s eyes. People often have that reaction when Chase shows them his badge.
“Why does she look like she’s about to be arrested, Max?” asked Dooley, who had noticed the same phenomenon.
“I think the presence of a police officer makes people feel guilty, even if they haven’t done anything wrong,” I explained.
“But if they haven’t done anything wrong, why should they feel guilty?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe they think they might have done something, but they’re not sure what.”